Short Worshippers Poems
Short Worshippers Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Worshippers by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Worshippers by length and keyword.
Worshippers of nature
Who are rarely even
Wicked as some assume,
Wiccans use rituals
Wanting to focus their
Willpower to bring the
World the joy of living
As the mercury starts to levitate,
and May hunts down chill residues,
warmed breezes rummage the ground
for ten sun-worshippers
cruising in two dusty,
floppy convertibles.
OLD SOLitary Lovers
Sun worshippers these sunflowers
turning their backs on their tenders
lolling in the squinting rays of sunrise
stretching to catch last touch of sunset
sadly hanging their heads at dusk.
John G. Lawless
7/23/2015
Gathered in service
we face our own solitudes,
sharing perspectives
we find common ground
in this haven of hope,
where fellowship trumps isolation.
Supplicants, worshippers,
what's in a name?
together we came.
In health and in hardship we struggle,
with God's love we grow.
Gathered in service
we face our own solitudes,
sharing perspectives
we find common ground
in this haven of hope,
where fellowship whips desolation;
supplicants, worshippers,
what's in a name?
union's the game.
In health and in hardship we struggle,
together we grow.
Gathered in service
we face our own solitudes,
sharing perspectives
we find common ground
in this haven of hope,
where fellowship conquers aloneness;
supplicants, worshippers,
what's in a name?
together's the game.
In health and in hardship we struggle,
together we grow.
Gathered in service
we face our own solitudes,
sharing perspectives
we find common ground
in this haven of hope,
where friendship conquers friendlessness;
supplicants, worshippers,
what's in a name?
together we came.
In health and in hardship we struggle,
together we grow.
believers
devout, fervent
accepting, aiming, progressing
worshippers, devotees, persistent, cynics
disbelieving, bearing, confounding
agnostic, cautious
skeptics
To our dying breath
If what leads on up
Her's, mine, our shared outlooks through
Darkens, grievous, o'er
As much will you, Earth
Admire as adore.
And with a bending
Bloom to smell weakness!
Worshippers, same! Dazed pilgrims!
For with each trek made
As bright will yet, Earth
Shrine-like be outlayed.
Nyx, the personification the night was feared and revered
Even Zeus, the god of the gods was terrified of her power.
She brought out the bats, the raccoons and hoot owls
Her worshippers including the wolves with the howls
Nyx loved the way the forest hid from her second sight
She marched through the atmosphere, as was her right.
(for Chris Okigbo)
Briefly …
She makes a watery presence:
Singing
Before our oil-bean;
Clotting in departures:
Cloying with the shrine!
Singing
Worshippers have come;
We have come,
Singing but in sudden tears;
The goddess and her priest,
They have twinkled from the shrine:
Wiping their foot-prints
From Heaven’s Gate!
Retired
melting slowly
into the world
spreading visibility into
gleaming pools
after a rain.
small onyx eyed birds
surround the rolling edges
dip and ruffle wings,
bath like Grecian goddesses
in a woodland bower.
Sprites and spirits watch
to learn the secrets of
simplicity
life afforded them
now the worshippers are gone.
Upon the Ground they lie
to be covered soon in white.
The leaves of spring have fallen
This crisp, cool autumn night.
Restless spirits circle
In anticipation and delight
To dance a dance of darkness
This Crisp, cool autumn night.
In a ritual of bloodshed
His worshippers unit
To dance a dance of Satan
This crisp, cool autumn night
Silhouette of a sassy
Little sex pot
Trembling in midnight air
By her big white picture windowsill
Captured by a muse she feeds in her mind
Loved by homegrown worshippers
She never really has to leave
Bitter is as bitter does
And what has been seen are her bitter,
Reddened lips
And her fake silk-lined soul
All crazy nail biting
Vengeance and delusion
Oh the petulant crone!
Form:
She enters softly, as darkness descends
Her movements regal, welcomed by friends
And worshippers in temples and homes
Acknowledging her presence with songs and poems
Sends ahead two angels, to every Sabbath table
Hoping to find candles lit, a home ready and able
To greet her as royalty deserves to be greeted
~ The Sabbath Queen -- Radiant! -- whose glory is feted
Exquisite Toronto water reflections
Lake’s hair is in pretty natural stagnant ringlets
An owl takes a perch in the design I see
her lovely paths lead somewhere
oak trees are readily reflected in her depths
has this waterway devoured people?
she has mesmerized many, of course,
and now I am one of her worshippers
It was a gray day a few minutes ago
Now it is much more pink and exciting
Dracula cats were in the alley that night
they had died in the fifties, and were quite a sight
the rest of the felines were terrified of them
they are devil worshippers, said my cousin Clem
I had no idea if this was true or not
But they looked evil to me, said my Aunt Polka Dot
I got a bad vibe from them both and refused to come out
They paraded up and down the alley, dancing all about.
Too holy
Religion brought
From abroad
Kills the mind
Of it addicted
Worshippers
Whose only
Ways and thought
Never leave the circle
Of holiness
Based from a book
Too holy
Too righteous
Too spiritual
Too royal
Too addicted
Too sensitive of the unknown
Drives the down world
Insane
Yes they are down
Cos they never can leave
This same circles that makes
Them nothing but just
Too holy
A cavalcade of savage singing lights
whip worshippers of ultraviolet;
Indulging the most hedonistic threat
they raise hooks to meritorious heights;
DJ’s entourage being read last rites
at the end of that set they won’t forget;
A cavalcade;
The swollen witching hour synthetic bites
direct reckless dancers to a sure bet;
Inarticulate’s the best you can get;
Obsessing over complicated fights,
a cavalcade.
blue pines sparkle
under snowy gray sky
on top of voluptuous hills
the evergreen in Winter -
their slant suggests skiers,
and worshippers
around a bonfire - the red house.
the main house in uplift
on the port hill
with conifer’s oceanic tint
xanthous-blue streaks
calming round moon
forest points to the stars
and the fluffy, wet snow, gently falling
Ancient Goddess
humans have worshiped you
for love, fertility, night, mist
and ocean's blue-
Huntress, protector
Creator of the sweetest nectar.
Many civilizations
for thousands of years,
under many names-
You have been the benevolent
defender of mortal fears
Moon haze she sweats-
worshippers on knees bow
when her silver hue and human eyes are met.
M inerva
O ps
O shun Ana
N ott
G efion
O dudua
D ionysus
D iana
E laine
S akhmet
S elket
for the Whole New Worlds contest